The Masquerade
by Ladies and Gents
Summary: "And so once the clock strikes twelve," she pointed a clipped nail to the grandfather clock toward the base of the staircase, "everyone will remove their mask and we will know who is who again." Perhaps some identities are better off not knowing. Oneshot AU


The Masquerade

Summary: "_And so once the clock strikes twelve_," she pointed a clipped nail to the grandfather clock toward the base of the staircase, "_everyone will remove their mask and we will know who is who again,"_ But some identities a better off not knowing. Oneshot AU

I don't own Hetalia

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In the little carriage sized to fit four Ivan Braginski sat across from his younger sister and beside the older. The elder—whose hands were clasped and thumbs circling one another—whimpered on odd intervals during the bumpy ride through Germany. Natalia stared tensely at Ivan, her face a mixture of emotions Ivan did not have the time or the inclination to decipher. "Cold outside," he muttered to himself. He heard the muffled sound of agreement from his less-than-eager siblings. He shook his head, a mass of grimy strands blocking some of his sight. _When was the last time I had a bath?_

Natalia, the youngest of the siblings, had removed the square letter over a half an hour ago. It was now held between two stiff fingers, opened and wrinkled at the corners. The letterhead read IVAN BRAGINSKI in horrible cursive. The paper itself had given up on writing like a proper civilian and had plenty of crossed out words and underlines. Ivan had been excited to hear some news initially, but as his eyes further scanned down the letter that smile fell. "Cold outside," he repeated once more. He would have tugged his gloves further up his wrists if he had them.

"Brother." Katyusha stopped rotating her thumbs for the briefest of seconds. She sniffled. "I d-did not know that we were…" There was a pained whining noise from the top of her throat before her face collapsed into her hands. "I am so sorry, brother!" She made awful sobbing sounds for the next few minutes, completely drowning out the sounds of a tired and sickly horse trotting through an unworn path.

Ivan did not make a move to comfort her. It was cruel that he didn't, he would realize. Yekaterina "Katyusha" Braginski had done everything for him in years past. She truly was the glue that held their dysfunctional mess of a family together. He didn't even offer her his handkerchief.

Natalia did not rattle her sister with words of hate or spite. "And to think," She followed her beloved brother's gaze out of the window and cleared her throat, "the night began so well." Purple orbs flickered to the girl but he still did not say anything. Her eye makeup was droopy and misshapen with the moon hanging overhead, and her cat mask was off kilter on one angle. It was grayed and torn at the ears, small dots of dirt speckled here and there like celebratory decorations.

Her cream dress was filthy and torn at the hem, the scratches on one leg painful to look at. Sister had spent so much time on her costume, and now it was unusable.

Ivan knew who to blame for all of this. "Alfred," he snapped. It was a weak sound, and it buzzed on Ivan's tongue. He thought about repeating it a few more times to make sure it had not been a fluke. The word was foreign now. The whole meaning behind it, changed.

XXX Three Days Ago XXX

The horse drawn carriage was something Ivan had been proud to present to his family. He was never one to hold back his possessions before, as he was a man of extravagant if not pretentious tastes. Whether it was his great uncle's gold crested sword that hung above the fireplace, a monumental jade dragon than he put in his dining room, or his prized silk scarf that Yekaterina had made for him all those years ago Ivan showed off his many possessions proudly. After all, latent people were never remembered and Ivan so desperately longed to be cherished.

But the Braginski bachelor was never happier than when with his uneasy family. When he had gotten wind of the gala that was to be held, Ivan had 'jumped through hoops' to ascertain that the trio of beautiful siblings would all be attending. A driver who could speak their language and a beautiful white mare with black and golden tassels tugged along the carriage to the Braginski household.

His short haired sister had almost cried with appreciation, reaching up to his neck and pulling his face close to her heart. He squirmed out of her grasp after a few calming words were mumbled, and greeted the driver with his ivory cane in hand. Ivan assumed Natalia was also pleased with the expensive sight though she did not voice it.

The smallest sister was truly the jewel of the household. Delicate features paired with a chess-playing brain were a deadly combination on any women. She was sought after by many people, though they were soon diverted away from her beautiful features. While stunning, the only man Natalia would ever be able to love was Ivan. It was questionable if her obsession was carnal or platonic. Ivan longed for the later.

She climbed in first, gesturing for him to come in after. Her mask was soon affixed to her face, white cat ears giving away the desired animal she had requested. Smoky and deliberately applied makeup offset the white mask that covered two thirds of her face, making those dark eyes seem alien.

Katyusha sat beside her, her breasts nearly popping out of her corset dress. Her excitement for the night was unquenchable. Perhaps she was the entire reason Ivan had decided to attend in the first place. Her fingers were still sensitive from the needles that stabbed her while sewing all of their costumes. It was unspoken law that Katyusha was only of the only family member Ivan cherished too much to disobey. Whatever she demanded-which wasn't much-Ivan obeyed.

"I like your ears sister," Ivan said with a gentle prod to the fabric. He smiled and climbed into the cab, the door shutting behind him. She giggled and shirked away from the touch, cupping the mouse-like shapes. Natalia frowned.

"And my ears brother? Are they inferior to hers?" Natalia demanded with a coat of anger. Katyusha appealed to her sister's better nature before Natalia could continue. Ivan was grateful.

The carriage ride was unmemorable. It was the gala that they had all prepared for, not the journey. When the grand palace came into view, Ivan brought out his mask. It was a grand thing that he himself had prepared, gold and silver leaf decorating the sides. Inspired by the Venetians and their talent for masquerades, many jewels were adhered until his only a small portion of his face was left uncovered. From where laugh lines were supposed to crease at the nostril, a triangle of bare skin was left untouched. Three thick black feathers stood at the crown of his mask like the proud birds they once were.

The mask showed off his affluence and status to a tasteful level, Ivan liked to think.

Once at the gate of the palace, the driver came around and opened the door for them. Katyusha stepped out first, her full chest capturing the attention of several attendees. Natalia was second, the asymmetric dress creating a slit that trailed up her right thigh. Ivan came out last, without the help of his driver. He swung his cane around in his hand like a deadly weapon, one hand clutching the girth very tightly. Mumbling some other phrases to the driver, he passed off coins and gave him a sharp slap on the back.

Katyusha looked over her shoulder and took up her sister's elbow. She smiled brightly at Ivan and waved once. Natalia growled waited for her brother as well. Their creamy dresses stood out from Ivan's stiff black suit, accentuating one another in a way that screamed 'trio'. He put a gloved hand on both of their shoulders and led them into the lovely château.

Ivan walked in and became prideful. The foyer was bright and nicely lit, and three severs offered them drinks. He decided that based by the color of the contents, the drink was either wine or a much diluted Asian beverage. No hard liquor was being served. He declined each opportunity. "Shame," he told Katyusha with another wave of his hand, "our host does not have a taste in alcohol." He had laughed, and his sister had not.

Everyone had a lovely mask on, some more simple than others. It was true that the more important guests had more amazing masks than others, but none were more awe-inspiring than Ivan's. Several young women praised it, asking to touch the feathers at the crown of the mask on several occasions. A small smile would appear on his features and he would bend his knees until they were eyelevel. Some girls would blush and reach out after a few seconds, while other would simply giggle and say they were joking.

Natalia would scare them away after a few minutes anyway.

The dancing did not have a set beginning, people just began to pick apart one another and begin to the tune of a song. Natalia was plucked away from him by a brown haired boy wearing a dog mask. While Ivan had his suspicions as to who this person was, he dared not say it to Natalia. She seemed to enjoy not knowing who she was dancing with. Ivan did not trust many people that were no longer apart of his circle, but he decided to for once trust a shaggy haired brunet with blue eyes.

The remaining sister opted to speak to Ivan instead of pick out a partner. "_And so once the clock strikes twelve_," she pointed a clipped nail to the grandfather clock toward the base of the staircase, "_everyone will remove their mask and we will know who is who again. Isn't that fun? I thought it was rather creative idea from him."_

"_No, I do not agree. What happens after the twelve_? _What if we run into more agents, what then? They recognize us, and then what will happen?_" Ivan asked, handing off his precious cane to the doorman and mumbling a childlike "thanks". He turned to his sister and tried to pursue the subject, but the platinum blonde no longer seemed willing to discuss it. She herself did not know the answer.

After a few minutes of simpler conversation between the elder and the younger, Katyusha was eventually plucked away from him as well. This man was thin and lanky with purple eyes much like Ivan's. He, unlike the other, kissed his sisters hand before leading her to the dance floor. He was also wearing some sort of ears along with his mask, like mouse ears but white. An albino mouse? A bear, perhaps?

After his pride had worn off, envy began to dwell in the pit of his stomach. He could ask a woman to dance but that was not what worried him. They would all say yes just as his sisters had. No, it definitely wasn't because he was lonely.

Out of the corner of his eye, a small troupe of females surrounded someone wearing a mask. They all hopped up and down excitedly around the person, laughing up a storm every few seconds. All were incredibly loud, but also seemingly reserved to one another. These were people Ivan was not used to. Fabulous females wearing dramatic dresses to galas were a commodity, but not when they were all surrounding one person.

Ivan was grateful he had chosen such a face-covering mask.

He left his spot in the corner of the room to go seek out his new found rival. It was _Ivan's_ job to be the center of attention, not some buffoon who made floozies cackle and bounce around. Ivan was refined, aristocratic, and most importantly _he was Ivan_.

As the jealousy began to well, that pesky purple aura began to appear also. It was an angry specter, Ivan assumed, one who followed Ivan around and haunted him as a little boy. It used to scare a much smaller Ivan, but now it was a tool for him to use. Much like his ivory cane. It intimidated others, because they didn't quite understand it.

"-And so then I told him, I says this, 'Eyebrows you can _call _me fat, but let's be honest here. You will never stop-', oh hey there," A voice that sounds oddly familiar quoted. He seemed to notice the aura like the others in the group, but only met it with vague curiosity instead of worry.

"Aw, why'd you stop telling the story?" One girl asked. She turned away from Ivan and begged for the much more sociable man to continue. "Please, please, _please_?"

The other man, too, was wearing something that resembles a Venetian mask. His though was almost completely silver with dark blue and vibrant red jewels decorating the face, especially around the eyes. There was an intricate design traced on one side of the cheek resembling vines or tendrils of some sort. The design followed closely where Ivan assumed his cheek bones were down to where the mask ended. Sandy hair fell around his mask evenly except for a few strands which stood up at attention in a sort of salute. A cowlick. Sapphire-like eyes roll up behind the mask to meet Ivan's own orbs. His mouth is revealed as well, and it twists up into a wicked grin.

"Well damn, are you trying to show my costume up? Fine ass mask you got there,"

Ivan reeled back. Such language in front of women! They giggled into their palms out of shock, startled that such words would ever be used in such a formal setting. It took the tall Russian a few seconds to compose himself to make an appropriate response. "Ah-ha… I like yours as well."

The blue eyes creased. He didn't say anything for a short second, seemingly choosing his next words carefully. "I'm sorry, were you about to ask one of these delectable ladies to dance?" He wraps an arm around a blonde and pulls her close to him. His voice drops a lusty octave when he continues. "Because let me tell you, they do _not _play nice!" He dipped the blonde woman into a low hold with a boisterous laugh. She swatted at his chest weakly, throwing her head back and glancing at the other jealous females in the crowd.

And the one male.

Though Ivan couldn't place it, there was something incredibly alluring about a stranger with an equally extravagant mask. "Actually I was not." He explained and waited for the dame to be placed upright. "I just wanted to see what the commotion was over here. It seemed much more exciting than being hit on by the servers,"

"Hah! Yeah I can imagine that." The man-boy says and stuffs his hands into his trousers. "I didn't really like the wine either. Not my kind of drink, ya know? Fruity and shit."

Again the giggles irrupted in the gaggle of females. "Hm, I don't drink fruity drinks so I would not know." The blond's cocky grin fell slightly, and Ivan grinned. He may have giggled, he wasn't quite certain. "But perhaps that is your 'thing' as you seem to be in the company of 'fruity' women,"

The women began to object when silver-mask wearer silenced them. "It's alright ladies, fight your own battles and don't let him get to you." This seemed to placate them. His glare was icy when it met Ivan's. "Maybe we should talk about this outside like gentlemen, neh?"

Ivan did not hesitate to agree. He followed him down the hallway and away from the ballroom, down another hallway and toward thick French doors. He unlocked the doors and they stepped outside into the chilly October night. "Is this your house or do you make a habit of spending you nights at perverted French chateaux?"

"Actually he's my uncle." Ivan bit back a rather nasty comment. "And before you say anything, I might as well thank you for giving me an excuse to leave those girls. Kinda annoying to deal with every time Francis throws a party. You want something besides wine to drink big guy?" He gestured to a small bar just inside the doorway.

Ivan picked out an expensive bottle of vodka and one shot glass. The other man picked a similar shot glass from the same cupboard. They both had one shot before leaving to the balcony; taking the bottle but leaving the glasses. They decided it was pretentious to keep pouring glasses for themselves.

Though Ivan had initially wanted to make fun of the younger, he could not for the life of him get the blond offended. He would laugh and his cowlick would bob in the air happily. Then he'd diverge into a different topic and they'd pass their shared bottle off to each other for the next few minutes.

Ivan had decided that the boy was a simpleton when it came to nearly everything. His voice rebounded whenever he spoke the word 'freedom' or 'justice' in a way that was almost uncanny to another less charismatic individual. They discussed (or rather, tried to discuss) politics, business, relatives, siblings, and the party itself. Sometimes they kept the conversation intelligent and light. When they discussed the latest sciences the boy was more than willing to hypothesize what the Dalton scientist would find.

But like many things that happened with alcohol, they both felt each other become more and more tipsy. They would never admit that they were both drunk though. Alfred laughed harder now that he had consumed half of the vodka bottle, and Ivan—as sturdy as his kidneys were—too felt the line of sobriety blur.

Ivan pulled at his new-found-friend's bowtie. "Who even tied this for you comrade? It is sloppy and is coming undone." He leaned down and peered suspiciously at the offending fabric. He giggled. A fabric, offending. How preposterous.

"What? Dude, it's totally fine I did it myself."

"Nyet, it is not _fine_." He argued. He pulled at the loose end and began to redo it. The child squirmed but otherwise did nothing to stop him. "You are stupid. You do not understand how your own clothes work. It does not matter if they fit you; it is how you wear the clothes that project who you are. How important you are, how expensive your tastes maybe, what your occupation is, all of these things are told through your clothes. Now you will look more handsome,"

A drunken hiccup escaped the less tolerant blond. "Dude, are you calling me attractive right now? Hahaha _dude_, you're a slut." He began to laugh even harder, his shoulders bouncing up and down uncontrollably. "I'm half your age and your coming on to me! Bwhahaha!" He lost balance and fell forward. Ivan caught his shoulders and his somewhat-friend grappled his biceps.

"I am doing nothing of the sort. I came out here for an intelligent conversation," Ivan lied. His fingers brushed down the younger man's suit. His breath hitched and he pulled his hands away. "I am admiring," he muttered.

"Uh-huh that's it," he giggled, "which is why you brought me out here."

"Is that so hard to believe?" The cowlick head tipped back and one blue eye winked.

Perhaps it was because they were both a little drunk, and both had been without the comforts of flesh for an awfully long time, but they both froze momentarily. A puff of smoke escaped Ivan's lips and slowly the blue eyes narrowed. "Are you sure it wasn't because you wanted to kiss me?" The blond asked with a wry grin. He pressed his masked nose flat against Ivan's, standing as straight as he could.

Strong but lean arms wrapped around Ivan's neck as he pulled himself up. He continued, "I don't really know who you are dude, and I'm pretty sure you don't know who I am, but doesn't that make this more fun?"

Ivan pretended to think behind his mask. "Mmm, I have yet to decide. You will not sleep with me tonight I take it?" Ivan rested his arms across the smaller man's hips. Said man shook his head with a chuckle. "Then I suppose yes, to both questions."

The blue eyed mystery laughed heartily, as if overwhelmed by some great joke. He threw back his head much like the blonde girl had done before, only this is truly startled laugh. Surprised, but not objected. The taller didn't quite understand why. Then, with great trepidation he met Ivan's clear violet eyes. "I suppose if I don't know you…"

With the hesitation a tightrope walker off balance, the blond angled his head slightly. Ivan mirrored him cautiously, carefully as if not to disrupt the magic that being behind a mask provided. When their lips met, a delightfully warm and kind sensation raced through him.

Their masks bumped against one another awkwardly, jewels and precious metals scraping. When Ivan came to his senses once more, he plunged further into the delicate kiss. He was careful to not have the teeth clack together painfully. He pulled the boy toward him by the waist and led him to the railing. Their feet and expensive shoes scuffed against the ground and against each other as they shuffled backward. The boy, surprisingly, held nothing back and allowed himself to be kissed rather roughly.

He met Ivan's new found enthusiasm remarkably. Once they pulled away to breathe, the barely experienced male with the cowlick made a surprised sound. "Huh,"

"What is it?"

"You're actually an awesome kisser,"

Ivan didn't think his grin would ever leave his face. He leaned in once more and captured the boy's lower lip between his teeth. The obviously younger made a strange sound but let it happen. He sucked it gently and the blue eyes became like saucers, the cowlick now standing at attention. Ivan hummed in approval. _Mine_.

The grandfather clock chimed three times before the pair realized what it was.

The younger pulled toward the sound and Ivan released his captured possession reluctantly. The blond slid out underneath Ivan and gravitated toward the sound, his mind befuddled. "What is it," Ivan asked plaintively. He approached the smaller boy and rested his head atop the other's softer head of hair.

"Twelve." The answer was blunt like a scalpel. "Twelve chimes."

"What does that mean again?" Ivan wondered aloud. He decided he did not care to remember, and tried to capture the other's lips once more.

The other only narrowly escaped this time, running out from under the Russians grip and toward the French doors. His cheeks were flushed and dusted pink when he turned around. "Twelve chimes means we can take off our masks. I need…to see your face."

It sounded like a pained request, Ivan thought to himself. He clasped his hands behind his back and nodded slowly. He could agree to this. He brought up his hands to the mask and hooked his thumbs under the plate. The blond mirrored him from across the balcony.

They removed their masks at the same time.

In a dramatic world, the two would have gasped and staggered backward. They would have stuttered and slurred and blush like foolish little girls, as if now seeing each other's true identities was a true shock to them both. They would have spit into the bushes and swore not to tell anyone lest they wanted a slow and painful death.

While they were surprised, the American did not scream and claim sexual molestation. The Russian did not reel back in disgust.

"Alfred Jones,"

"Ivan," An awkward silence.

Alfred nodded, agreeing with invisible words which could not be spoken. He set the carefully crafted mask off to the side and removed his glasses from his coat pocket. "No wonder I didn't know it was you. I could barely see the whole night." But they knew it was a lie. It was a horribly disgusting lie and they both knew it.

Ivan nodded and finished the rest of the vodka. A span of silence expanded between the two. Taking off their masks had shifted the tides in a way they both hated. "I suppose you are obligated to hunt me down now, da?"

There was a very dull smile that almost looked lifeless. "Francis threw this party for me to find you after all." Alfred lamented. His blue eyes roamed around the balcony, but never met Ivan's eyes. They had both had their suspicions, and now all they could do was fall back into their old routine of cat and mouse.

Ivan had given his cane to the doorman. Perhaps a fist fight would be a good way to settle this, but neither felt up to it. Ivan's heart began to feel like a massive boulder sitting in his chest. The alcohol was starting to burn his throat once more, and his eyes began to twitch. Why? Why did Alfred have to be so…so…

Alfred jumped onto Ivan and twisted his hands into the platinum locks. He pulled his face down with enough force Ivan thought surely his neck would snap if Alfred had been just a tiny bit shorter. Alfred slammed his lips right against Ivan's once more, wincing when their teeth clacked painfully. Ivan did not have time to restate the kiss when the young blond pulled away.

"You have five minutes to get your sisters and get out of here. If you don't leave by then everyone here will have you arrested on sight." Alfred said bitterly. He walked over to the railing and pulled out a whistle that had been otherwise tucked away in his suit. He licked his lips and then cleared his throat. "I didn't see you here." Ivan understood.

Ivan straightened the wrinkles on his coat and began to do the unthinkable. He pulled at each individual finger and removed his prized pair of gloves. He approached the boy and opened his suit pocket, stuffing them in his coat pocket right beside the pistol. Violet eyes met with blue once more, the sudden urge to kiss Alfred one more time welling up once more. "Thank you."

"Leave."

His sisters had not removed their masks yet, but were obviously horrified at the scene around them. Natalia's mouth was set in a harsh line, her back up against her older sister. They were trapped like mice in a maze surrounded by cats. All of their enemies were one by one removing their masks, waiting for the two women to do the same. Yekaterina had begun to cry when she realized what was happening, and Natalia cursed at her in Russian for being so obvious.

The crime trio had been caught.

It was over.

Toris looked at her sadly and a fellow named Matthew waited patiently beside him. Natalia felt betrayed. She felt her heart being ripped out when she realized who she was dancing with, who she _enjoyed _dancing with. He didn't care about her, he was just using her! Toris didn't want to 'save' her or to 'cure' her, all he wanted was to separate the family. And she fell for it! Stupid, stupid, stupid!

"_We are leaving!" _Natalia shouted at the last second, darting toward the foyer with her sister still attached to her. She could have sworn Toris stepped after her. A knife was the only weapon she even thought to bring, and that was out of habit. If she had been less stupid, she would have instead chosen to bring her throwing knives. Now they were at a disadvantage. "_Sister, hurry, I can see the OUGH!"_

Yekaterina's scream split the air in two as she watched her sister fall and writhe on the grass. She knelt down and tried to find where the blood was coming from. "Natalia! No, please get up! I-I d-d-don't! I didn't mean for-!"

Then, as if by the grace of God himself, Ivan appeared at the doorway. In his strong arms he picked up Natalia and threw her over his shoulder and pulled Yekaterina up by her waist. The carriage pulled up at the edge of the drive, and Ivan bolted.

The carriage didn't even stop for them, and yet somehow the family managed to make their way in and collapse against the seats. Ivan was wheezing and his heart had become even heavier than before. He barked at the driver to take them to their summer home.

"Natalia are you alright?"

"P-p-please do not b-b-be too hurt!"

"Do we need to stop by the doctor?"

"Oh no! Brother they will catch us and tear us apart again if we do that. I-I d-d-d-don't want t-to leave you!"

"I AM FINE!" Natalia sat up and clutched her at her ankle. She would not allow them to be ripped apart once more. She could have been bleeding out of her heart and she would not allow them to stop the carriage. "_I tripped and fell and I think I twisted myself in these damned shoes_. _Let's just leave this godforsaken place._"

XXX

The letter had come from the second checkpoint, almost three days later. It was still eerily quiet in their cab, and the driver suspected the horse was now sick and needed to be switched out. The family was famished and dehydrated and worst of all, the note had brought them horrible news.

_Do not go to your summer home. They are waiting for you there. Head to Kiev and regroup._

It took almost two weeks to get to Kiev. Yekaterina had now had two meltdowns and Natalia would be working on her forth. They were all starving, having only being able to take the food from their scattered outposts. Ivan occasionally had to use force to get what they needed. Whether that was upturning the stalls or hitting a shopkeeper over the head with an ivory cane, he did what had to be done. His family needed to be safe. They were what kept him happy.

This new carriage was uncomfortable as well. The ceilings were far too low and the driver had a horrible cough. Worse yet, nearly all of Ivan's possessions had been taken back in France. His house had been looted while they were gone. They were virtually penniless now. And they would remain penniless until they arrived at Kiev and found all of their belongings waiting at the checkpoint.

When they came to Kiev and stopped for the last time, Ivan had received one last letter. This one was not addressed from the crime ring. Ivan was not certain if he trusted a letter carrier from someone outside of the family anymore.

He had trusted Toris and let him dance with his sister. He ended up being the first to remove his mask and turn against her. The worst part was that baby Natalia, he suspected, had been beginning to fall in love with the brunet. She had cried her heart out the first week of travel, almost out-tearing Yekaterina with her constant sobbing.

Ivan split open the letter angrily. What more bad news could there be? What else could he have taken from his family, from his life?

_Dear Ivan,_

_I despise you._

_You, you are something else that I can't even begin to describe. Do you know __**why**_ _I was sent to my uncle's house that weekend? It was because they- Francis and Arthur mostly- thought that it would be a perfect opportunity to bring you to justice. That I Alfred F. Jones; could personally bring you to justice. Francis and Arthur had planned the whole thing out. A masquerade ball. We knew that your sister wouldn't be able to resist an invitation to such a thing. We actually followed her around for three days to see what she liked. We picked out an invitation and had in tailored so that __**she'd**__ want to go._

_Because we knew that if she was going, Natalia and you would also go._

_It was my job to separate you from the others. I was the hero after all, so I had the biggest and most important job of the night. If I kept you on that balcony all night, my mission would have been complete. Yekaterina and Natalia would be captured, and then we'd send up a whole squad just to bring you down. I would be good with the FBI and CIA for bringing down criminals like you three. I would be set for life and land my dream job._

_But do you know what happened? Somewhere between your awful attempts at flirting and the vodka I fell for you._

_Fell._

_For you._

_I was the quarterback for my football team and I fell in love with a crime lord. Ex-crime lord, sorry. Then I realized about six days ago that I didn't feel bad about it anymore. It was kind of nice to be kissed by a guy for once instead of a lady. No, I take that back. It was nice to be kissed by __**you**__ instead of an average anybody._

_So I despise you._

_You ruined me. My job, my family, my friends, all of it's messed up now. No one likes me. I'm…all alone. It doesn't feel very good to know that no one else in the world cares about you. I always hated being alone, that's why I surrounded myself with those girls at the gala. I couldn't just approach you, you know? I was afraid to._

_So maybe, just maybe we could meet up again sometime. Lonely men love company. No tricks, no vodka, no nothing. Just…us. Does that sound okay? No, I know it doesn't._

_I know you'll never forgive me for what I've done. I accept that you'll probably rip this up and laugh about it with the other guys. I would probably too if I was in your position. Actually I would send it to the New York Times and make myself filthy rich, and then I'd burn the paper. But dammit Ivan I hope you don't._

_-Alfred_

_P.S. I did NOT direct the loot from your house to your checkpoint in Kiev. Seriously. I didn't. And I most certainly do NOT think you're a good kisser. It's not like I kept your gloves or anything. That'd be weird. Ahaha._

* * *

A/N: DONE. This thing was a bitch to write, and yet I couldn't stop writing it. *mutters more words under breath that sound suspiciously like 'I hate my life'*

Please review and let me know whatcha think.

-Ladies and Gents


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